


Friends Help Friends

by nightfalltwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Community: hp_creatures, Creature Fic, Gen, creature: werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-29 16:38:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16268171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: He's been on his own for years dealing with this and when the Greyback pack wants him to join, he finds that it might actually be good to open up to people who could be his friends.





	Friends Help Friends

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** 66  
>  **Creature:** Werewolf  
>  **Disclaimer:** This creation is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offense is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.  
>  **Notes:** I want to give a huge thank you to my beta **L** and to the mods for putting up with my lateness. So sorry about that! I tweaked the pairing a little because the two of them really spoke to me in this one. Twisting and turning a little bit with interview canon.

* * *

The room stank. 

It was an overwhelming mixture of blood, sweat, and rotten food that had been kicked aside when refused. Above his head a bare light bulb flickered on, disturbing the few moths that were still alive. They began circling with a steady tick-tick-tick as they hit the glass. How they got into the room, he didn't know. There were no windows and he hadn't thought the door had ever been open long enough for them to get inside.

Licking his parched lips, he wondered how they would taste if he managed to snatch one up.

A scrape of metal against wood caused him to sit up, pressing his back against the wall. He wouldn't let them catch him sleeping. Not a second time.

It was the same as before. Two men entered and bound him with spells, dragging him out of the stinking room and down a dark corridor. The tops of his feet dragged along behind him; they would be bloody again, barely-healed scabs torn from the skin, by the time he reached his destination. But they were numb. So numb that he didn't even feel the cuts.

A door opened and he felt himself falling, hitting wet grass and rolling slightly down a slope. This was new. He sucked in a breath, smelling wet, clean earth and rain-soaked stone. There was grit between his teeth and he coughed, spitting mud from his mouth, almost relishing in the fact that it wasn't something rotten. He didn't remember biting the ground, but he didn't remember a lot of things in the weeks he'd been held in that dank, foul, little room. Behind him laughter rumbled through the group.

"Looks like 'e's 'ungry," said one of the voices. "Someone should tell 'im that 'e's not a cow and grass ain't gonna fill 'is belly."

Someone crouched down. Even with the daylight blurring his tired eyes, he could tell who it was and tried not to wince as the sharpened fingernails dug into his cheeks and the rancid breath curled the hair in his nostrils.

"One last chance, boy," said Weylin Greyback, digging his nails deeper. "You won't get far without us."

He drew in a breath and tried to spit. It was the most defiant gesture he could think of, but after little to no water, all he could manage was a dry spattering of mud that dribbled down his chin. "I'd rather you just kill me now."

Weylin pushed him backwards and laughed, an unsettlingly hollow sound that had the others joining in. "Kill you? Why would we kill one of our own?"

"I'm not one of you."

The older man crouched down. "Course you are. Fenrir made you, just like he made all of us. We're family. Sooner or later you're going to realise that." He leaned closer. "You can't escape us. But I'll be a sport and let you try."

Minutes passed as Weylin watched the limping form grow further away, glancing down every so often at an old pocket watch. His lips curled and he waved his hand dismissively. He'd grown tired of the stubbornness of Hufflepuffs. The boy should have been grateful that the last remaining survivors of the Greyback pack were so willing to welcome him into their fold. But he'd refused them every step of the way, endured the pain and the beatings in a way that was almost impressive.

If it hadn't been so infuriating.

"Sir?" Weylin's second spoke from behind. "Your orders?"

"Two more minutes. Let the boys have some fun with the chase. Then kill him."

* * *

The sun was just starting to set and Luna thought this was the very best time to explore. She crouched down, chin on her knees and ran her fingertips over the ground. The pronounced trail, now used by deer and other non-magical wildlife easy to see. Grass had grown up over the path and it sparkled with the rain that had fallen earlier in the afternoon. But the grass wasn't what she was looking for. Instead Luna pulled a small trowel out of her back pocket and poked it beneath the sod.

"See Rolf?" She pointed to the darkened soil under the grassroots. "Heliopath scorch marks. This entire network of forest paths is maintained by the local resident."

Rolf Scamander pushed back his dark hair and pulled out his battered field notebook, making note of what she said with an agreeable noise coming from somewhere in the back of his throat. Luna smiled. She hadn't come across someone who believed her so readily. Most of the magizoologists she came across tended to dismiss her claims of snorkacks, wrackspurts and nargles. But not Rolf. He'd listened to her, written down her descriptions of all the creatures that she and her father had hunted for over the years. 

It all starts with one person believing you, Rolf had said, telling the story of his grandfather's fight to educate the American population about magical creatures.

So Luna figured that she must like him very much. He had so much respect for creatures and he made her smile when he talked about his travels and the discoveries he'd made over the years.

A snapping branch pulled Luna back to the present and she turned to look up the steep hillside, her heart pounding. Was it a heliopath beginning its cycle of slash and burn to renew the forest after a long summer that left dead brush across the hillside? Her thoughts whirled around excitedly at the idea that she might actually catch a glimpse of the fire spirit. Behind her, she heard Rolf take out his camera. It was a fancy muggle thing that Luna didn't quite understand with all its buttons and switches, but it seemed to take very nice photographs and she did very much like that it gave her a glimpse of the picture just after it was taken.

Just imagine, she thought, an instant image of the elusive heliopath!

But what came crashing through the brush was not the creature she'd been hoping for. It wasn't even a creature. It wasn't even on fire.

Stumbling out onto the path and falling onto the road was a man. Bedraggled and wheezing for breath as if he'd just run the entire wood. Which, judging by the cuts and scrapes on his bare feet, he might very well have.

Luna took a step forward, only to stop when Rolf grabbed her arm and held fast. "Luna, he could be dangerous."

She was about to reply that she had a feeling about this. That there was something familiar about the man. That she just wanted to talk to him and make sure he was all right. But in a flurry of movement, the man launched himself toward her, grasped at her arms and Luna sucked in a shocked breath. Beneath the mud and the dirt, the blood and the growth of beard that dotted his cheeks and chin, she found herself staring into the wild eyes of Zacharias Smith.

"Greyback," he choked out, gripping her arms tighter. Luna couldn't help the small whimper that bubbled up in the back of her throat.

"Hey now," Rolf said, stepping forward, "You're hurting her."

Zach growled and took a weak swing at the other man before turning back to Luna. "Greyback..."

"He died at the Battle of Hogwarts," she said softly.

"His pack! His pack is coming... Both of you... you have to run!"

He launched himself forward in a sort of hobble-limp-run, taking hold of Luna's wrist and even going so far as to latch onto Rolf as well in an attempt to drag them along. Luna opened her mouth, but the protest died before it started when she heard the laughter coming from the hillside. The sound was cold and angry and mocking. It was certainly no heliopath and judging by the look of terror on Zach's face, she felt a fear that she hadn't felt since those nights in the bowels of Malfoy Manor.

"Zach, stop," she said, pulling back against his grip.

"We can't stop! They're coming!"

She held out her free hand, wand extended. "We don't need to run, though," she said and glanced at Rolf, who nodded, also taking out his wand.

"I'll alert the Ministry," he said.

In an instant the other man was gone and Luna's attention was back on Zach. "You'll have to not think about anything," she said, twisting her wrist from his hand and moving so that she held onto his fingers more gently. "I've only done side-along apparition a few times."

Before he could respond, Luna pinched her eyes shut and focused on only two things, the shape of her own house and the hold that she had on his hand. When her feet landed on solid ground, Luna cracked open her eyes and looked around, a satisfied smile appearing on her face. She was always rather impressed by the whole disappearing and reappearing thing. Especially the reappearing. As used to magic as she was, it was always sort of a marvel.

"Shall we have some tea then?" she asked, trying to be bright about the whole situation.

But instead of answering her, Zach's eyes did a strange sort of flutter and rolled back, just as he sank to the ground in a crumpled heap. Luna just barely managed to get a cushioning charm cast beneath him to keep his head from hitting the stones that lined the path up to her front step.

Crouching down, she touched his forehead. "This isn't the best place for you to recover," she remarked, looking up at the house and then back at the prone figure in front of her, speaking to Zach as if he could hear every word. Which he probably could. He just wouldn't remember where he'd filed away the conversation once he woke up. "Father is in South America right now, so you can spend time in his bed. I do hope you don't mind being levitated... but you are very broad shouldered and quite a bit larger than I am."

She flicked her wand and started toward the house, floating the unconscious Zacharias behind her.

* * *

He was burning. He was burning and on fire! Those bastards had set him on fire to try and get him to join the pack. On fire!

"No!" Zach woke with a start, bolting upright and clutching his chest. Instead of flames, he was greeted by a room filled with newspapers, no... Quibbler magazines, various mobiles that hung from the ceiling, twisting and turning in a wind that wasn't exactly coming from the closed window.

It wasn't the putrid room he had been in previously. Where was he?

"Oh good, you're awake."

Zach's gaze swung to the door, the room tilting slightly with the movement, despite him lying down. He clutched at his head. Instead of hair and bare skin though, he felt a bandage wrapped securely around his temples. Blinking a few times to stop the walls from spinning, he focused on the location of the voice and shifted back in recognition. For a moment he was confused. Had he died? Had he died and this was some sort of waypoint where Luna Lovegood guided him off to what lay beyond?

"Here," she said with a smile and plopped down on the bed beside him. She held out a small bottle, the cork removed. "Terry said the gash on the back of your head was infected and maybe a few days old; he said this would heal you."

He took the phial from her and drank down the bitter potion, not caring that it tasted awful because it was something liquid to parch his dry throat. He coughed a couple of times and pushed the empty container back into her hands. Slowly his thoughts caught up with what she had said and his hand flew up to cover his left shoulder, gripping at the loose nightshirt that covered him.

"Terry... Terry _Boot_ was here?"

"Oh yes," Luna said, standing up and tucking the phial into her apron pocket. "You were very unconscious and I can do a few things with _Episkey_ , but I thought it best if a proper healer looked you over. He came over straight away."

Zach began to struggle with his blankets, wincing at every movement, but wanting to escape as quickly as possible. He looked around the room, but couldn't see his clothing anywhere. Not that it was much in the way of clothing. His trousers and shirt had been in tatters when the pack had begun to chase him down, he couldn't imagine what they looked like, or smelled like, now.

"I need to go," he said weakly.

Luna tilted her head, her earrings jangling as she moved. "I don't think that's best. You're not well."

"No, I need to go. Where are my clothes? I shouldn't have been brought here." He hobbled over to an armchair strewn with folded clothing. None of which was his own faded henley or trousers. The nightshirt flapped around his thighs as he moved. "I need to go."

"Zacharias Smith!" Luna's voice was suddenly stern and a lot louder than he ever remembered her being. "You sit down on that bed right now!"

He stumbled back and sat down.

Luna folded her arms. "You're injured. You're starving. You're weak. You're in no condition to leave this room, let alone this house. I won't stand for it." She pointed back at the lumpy pillow and waited until he'd shifted himself fully onto the bed and silently waited for her to cover him with a quilt. "Stop being so maddeningly stubborn," she said, her tone shifting back into the soft, airy voice he always remembered and he watched her move around the room. "You need rest and I have some porridge on the cooker."

She turned suddenly, pointing her finger at him. "Do _not_ get out of bed."

When she returned, she wore a smile on her face and carried a tray. Despite the fact that he didn't exactly care for porridge, his stomach let out a noisy gurgle and before he knew it, he was shovelling the warm cereal into his mouth. Twice she had to take the bowl out of reach to get him to slow down and only once did he almost find himself almost growling at her for doing so. It was, quite possibly, the best thing he'd had in weeks and he didn't even care that he was rudely running his thumb across the bottom of the bowl to get the last few drops into his mouth.

Glancing over at Luna, Zach felt his face grow hot. Her brows had knitted together and worry was quite evident on her face.

"Sorry," he mumbled, grabbing the cloth napkin she'd set out for him and wiping his mouth.

"How long did they starve you?" she asked quietly.

"Dunno," he said with a shrug. "What day is it now?"

Luna tapped her chin. "Seventh of October."

"Sometime between a month or a month and a half, then." 

Zach was silent for a spell, thinking about the days he'd spent in that horrid room and the two changes he'd gone through. One had been at the very beginning and the second had been maybe four or five days previous. At least he still had some time before the next. He'd just have to make certain with a proper calendar. Setting aside the tray, Zach wiggled a bit on the bed, scooting down into a more comfortable position. He turned on his side to face her and folded his arm under his head.

Her gaze, however, was so focused on him that he almost shifted back and turned onto his other side. It was alarmingly intense and he couldn't seem to bring himself to stare back at her. Pulling at a thread on the quilt, Zach chewed on the inside of his cheek before a question popped into his head.

"So, erm, how _thorough_ was Boot when he was here?"

Luna waved her wand at the empty tray and sent it floating out the door. "You were very injured and Terry is very good at his job..."

"'Course he is, the swot," Zach mumbled, remembering the kind of student Terry Boot had been.

Luna gave him a look and Zach coughed up a garbled 'sorry'. "As I was saying, he's a very good healer. He said all of your injuries should heal up within the week. Your feet were especially torn up and neither one of us could tell if it was because of your captivity or the run through the woods. But he brought some salve, which I'll reapply after you've rested. Everything else will be cleared up by the potions he left for you. Except the bite, of course."

She got up from the little stool she'd conjured after bringing his breakfast started digging through the wardrobe, pulling out shirts and odd looking striped trousers, flicking her wand to charm each piece as she tossed it on the bed. Her words spun around and around inside his head and the old scar on his shoulder ached fiercely. Pushing himself up again so he was sitting, Zach waved his hand to catch her attention.

"Bite?"

"The one on your shoulder," she said, her tone light and airy once again. "I wouldn't worry too much. You still have time."

"Time?"

Luna gave him a patient, but concerned, look. "Until the next full moon. Terry said it wasn't a new injury, so I assumed you've had it a while now." She perched on the bed beside him. "Did your head injury make you lose some memories? I'm really not good at recovering them... we'd have to see if Terry knows someone at St Mungo's."

Zach felt like his breakfast was about to come back up and end up on the floor. He clutched at his hair, wincing when his fingers bumped the bandaged gash. He'd managed for eight years. Eight whole years he'd kept his secret. Partly because his grandfather had asked him to keep the Smith name out of the mud after his stunt at Hogwarts—someone had gotten wind of his flight from the school and run a few articles about it—mostly because he was afraid of what would happen if everyone knew. 

Certainly Boot had some kind of obligation to report him, didn't he?

"I have to go," he said, finally. Defeated.

"What did I say about getting out of bed?" Luna countered.

"No, Luna. You don't get it. I can't be here! I can't be here when someone from the ministry shows up wanting to put me on a list and ruin the rest of my life like it hasn't already been ruined."

Luna turned and picked up a shirt, holding it out in front of her as if she was checking the size. "Why would someone from the Ministry come here?" She looked at him sideways.

"Boot..."

"Terry said he wouldn't," she said simply.

Zach didn't know how to respond to that. The surly part of him wanted to question her. How did she _know_ that Boot wouldn't go to the authorities. Wasn't that his job? Wasn't that the responsibility of any witch or wizard when they discovered an unregistered werewolf? He fell back against the pillows, resigned. She seemed so completely sure of her friend and Zach didn't even know why he was so completely sure of her that he was going to believe all of this.

"I still can't stay," he said, looking up at the painted ceiling; a swirling sky of sun and clouds moved across the expanse of it. "It's not safe."

"Oh that's quite obvious in your current state, but we don't need to think about that now," Luna said with a smile.

He looked at her. "Why are you helping me like this?"

She got up and left the clothing to fold itself neatly at the foot of the bed. "That's a terribly silly question," she said. "Friends help friends." She pointed at the clothing. "That should fit you with the charms I cast, though the trousers might be a little short or possibly a little tight. I'll come back later with some lunch."

And with that she was out the door, leaving him on his own. 

Zach still didn't quite understand in what world she thought of him as a friend. They'd been on the quidditch announcer stand together for only a few games and they'd been part of the DA together, but beyond that he wasn't sure he could remember being all that friendly toward her. Yet, she'd had no hesitation. _Friends help friends._ It had made something release deep in his chest and reminded him of his first night at Hogwarts all those years ago and Cedric in his fourth year saying that he would be friends with all of them if they let him.

He snorted, still not really convinced. "Friends," he muttered. "Friends don't put their friends in danger like this... You don't want to be friends with me."

* * *

Luna perched on a stool by the stove, watching the slow simmering bubbles pop at the surface of the stew that she'd put on to heat. Upon hearing that her father was going out of the country for a number of weeks, Mrs Weasley had been ever so kind to send over some prepared food. And just like all the things that she'd reheated before, the stew smelled just as heavenly. She gave it a stir and then dug out a steaming carrot and popped it into her mouth.

There was a shuffle and creak behind her and glancing back over her shoulder, she couldn't help but cover her mouth with a chuckle.

"Oh my," she said. "My father's clothes don't suit you at _all_."

Zacharias stood there in a loose purple tunic shirt with loud orange stripes along the bottom. The trousers, which seemed to fit even if they were a bit short, were an atrociously ugly brown plaid that Luna couldn't remember her father ever wearing. She wondered, perhaps, if it had been part of some costume from a fancy dress party in years gone by. Zach frowned awkwardly and tugged at the sleeves.

"It fits, at least," he said after a long silence. "Thanks."

Luna gave a nod and turned back to the stew, giving it another stir before she placed the lid back on the pot. Pointing her wand at the cupboard, she started floating mismatched bowls and cups to the table. Zach lowered himself onto a chair and chewed on his thumbnail. He looked like he had about a thousand more questions he wanted to ask, but she just kept setting things out instead of prompting him. It was only when she'd filled a third glass with water did he finally speak, his expression uneasy.

"Are you expecting someone?"

Before she could answer there was a whooshing of the fireplace in the sitting room and a scrape of chair legs against the floor as Zach jumped to his feet. Luna waved her hand, indicating that it was alright and pulled open the door to the kitchen. She stepped back and welcomed Rolf in, pointing to the third place that had been set out. He gave her a smile and shrugged off the long coat, hanging it on the hook by the door as he usually did.

"Did it work?" she asked.

Rolf gave her a smug smile. "Of course it did." He dug into one of the coat's deep pockets and pulled out a bottle that had a drawstring bag gathered around it. "Granddad pulled a few of his many strings." He strode across the floor and set the bottle down in front of Zach's plate. "That should do you for the next two months."

Luna returned to the stove, levitating the large pot over to the table and onto a trivet in the middle. She saw Zach fold his arms and give the bottle a suspicious look. Rolf let out a dry chuckle and looked over at her, pulling his chair out to take a seat.

"You tell him," he said to her. "I don't think your friend will believe me."

"Her _friend_ has a name," Zach said, raising his chin. "Zach Smith."

"Rolf Scamander," Rolf replied, offering a hand that Zach didn't attempt to shake until Luna cleared her throat and shuffled her chair. "You might know my Granddad more than me... unless you've read up on my papers on the migration habits of wild nifflers, but I don't feel like you're into that sort of thing..." He tilted his head. "You strike me more of a Quidditch man. Am I right? Wasps or Falcons?"

"Falcons, obviously," Zach said as if it was ludicrous to consider anything else. His attention shifted to Luna who had busied herself by dishing out heaping portions of the stew. "Luna, why am I meeting a Scamander and what is it that he's brought?"

She held out the full bowl and swapped it with the empty one in front of him. "It's the new Wolfsbane. For you."

Zach set down the fork that he'd just raised and rubbed his temple. "So.. Terry, you, Rolf here and his grandfather too? Just how many people know now?"

Dabbing the side of her mouth with a napkin, Luna looked back and forth between the two men. "Rolf was with me in the woods when you were being chased. He went to the ministry to report the incident—leaving you out, for heaven's sake Zacharias don't make that face—and he brought Terry back with him. When Terry told us about your bite, Rolf volunteered to get his hands on the potion for you.

Rolf put up his hand. "For the record, my granddad didn't ask me any questions, nor did I volunteer anything."

"And why are _you_ getting involved anyway? You could have walked away and washed your hands of it. I mean, who am I to you?"

"You're Luna's friend," Rolf said simply, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes and stirring the stew in front of him with a spoon. "And she asked me to help you."

Luna rapped the table lightly with the backside of her spoon. "We can have long conversations about the nature of friendship and your predicament and Rolf's involvement after we eat. Tuck in before it gets cold."

It seemed that neither man needed to be asked a second time and a silence fell over the table, punctuated only by the sound of chewing and the scrape of spoon against china.

* * *

Cradling the potion bottle against his chest, Zach watched from the stairs as Rolf and Luna bid each other quiet goodbyes. He scratched a spot under his tunic once the other man had finally left, descending back down into the main room. Luna had already started to gather up all the teacups and send them off to the kitchen to be washed. She flicked her wand at a broom that began to hop around the room to clean up the crumbs.

"You really should go back to bed," she said without turning, putting stray quibbler issues back into a pile. 

"He really likes you," said Zach, ignoring her statement as he settled onto the sofa. "You two.. a thing?"

"He's my research partner," Luna replied. Zach noticed her cheeks go a bit pink and couldn't stop himself from smirking. Luna seemed like the very last person who would be bashful about a man, but it was almost comforting to know that she was normal in that regard.

Instead of pushing, however, he turned the conversation back to the points they'd talked about earlier. "I wasn't joking when I said I couldn't stay, you know. Scamander said the Aurors couldn't find anything in the woods... the Greybacks will track me down and I'm not getting you involved."

Luna gave him a withering look. "We're already involved, Zach."

Zach folded his arms and frowned at the floor, irritated that she was refusing to see how dangerous this was. The Greybacks wouldn't stop. They would either turn or kill anyone who refused them. He'd seen it first hand when they'd dragged away the lifeless body of their last attempted recruit before they'd thrown him into the room that would become his cell for all those weeks. The last thing he wanted was for Luna to suffer that fate. She'd already been far nicer to him than he deserved and for that he was determined to make sure she was safe from whatever they tried. Her sigh brought him out of his thoughts and back to the sofa.

"Terry said the infection would be gone in a few days," she said finally. "Stay until then."

"Fine."

* * *

The last few warm days of the year were upon them and all the windows of Luna's home had been opened to allow the house to air out. Zach was carrying a parcel of clothing sent over from the Weasley house when he smelled them. It was before he even heard a noise, a rancid meat sort of smell that carried itself over the hillside and began to mask anything sweet that had come inside. Dropping the parcel, he climbed the spiral stairs until he got to the closest open window, sticking his head out as far as possible to scan the surrounding area.

He looked down and spotted Luna outside cutting dirigible plums from the little bush by the step and a panic filled his chest. Pulling himself inside, Zach practically ran down the stairs, taking two or three at a time until he was able to fling open the front door. He leaned forward, hanging onto the door frame, and grabbed Luna by the arm. Startled, she let go of the plums and they started to float up the side of the house. Before she could speak, he'd pulled her inside and bolted the door behind her.

"You need to Floo to the Ministry. They're coming." He pushed a curtain aside and peered out into the yard.

But instead of listening to him—why wasn't she listening to him?!—Luna waved her wand and conjured a patronus. The hare bounced around the room briefly before stopping at her feet. Luna leaned down and spoke softly into its ears before sending it careening out of the house. Another flick of the wand and all around and above him, Zach could hear windows being closed.

"You don't have a wand, Zach. I'm not leaving you here by yourself," she said.

Zach turned and roughly grabbed her shoulders. He wanted to shake the optimism right out of her. He wanted to shout and he wanted to scold her as she had scolded him when he'd first woken up. He was almost certain she'd absolutely lost control of her senses. Wasn't she a Ravenclaw? Did she really just spend too much time with Gryffindors to think this out logically? This was not the time, nor the place for her to be his friend.

"Did you think we wouldn't find you, Smith?" Weylin Greyback's familiar voice called out from beyond the door. "That we would let one of ours get away?"

"Please, Luna," Zach said, a tremor of fear in his voice.

She shook her head and pushed aside his hands, stepping up to the door. "He's not yours!"

A number of voices laughed on the other side and Zach buried his hands in his hair, pulling. Maybe if he pushed her aside and ran outside, he could lead them away. Maybe they would just forget about her and the house and just follow him. He could run. He'd eaten breakfast and healed from his injuries. Maybe he could get as far as the old Diggory place and see if Cedric's dad was still around. Maybe he could get a wand.

"Greyback made him, girl," Weylin growled. "He belongs to us."

To Zach's horror, Luna flung open the door. "No he doesn't!"

She pointed her wand at the group, keeping herself between them and Zach, but cast no spell. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Luna. Luna Lovegood. The same Luna everyone had called Looney and mad. The same Luna Lovegood that had frustrated him so utterly during Quidditch matches when she'd announced. The same Luna Lovegood who looked so fragile and thin as if she could float away like one of her dirigible plums. She stood between him and the Greyback pack.

"He belongs to me," she said firmly.

Weylin's lips twisted into a spectacularly awful smile, his crooked teeth bared. "He can't belong to you, girlie."

"Well he does," Luna said. She glanced back briefly. "You're in my pack, aren't you?"

"I'm what?" Zach said, surprised at the turn in the conversation. She gave him a look and raised her eyebrows. "Erm... yes. Yes, I am."

The chuckles that came from the gang of Greybacks were more uneasy this time, less sure. They looked to their leader as if to say "is that how it works?". Weylin clenched and unclenched his fist, sucking in a deep breath. He shook his head and took a step forward, only to jump back when Luna hit the ground with a precisely aimed blasting spell that kicked up the dirt and rocks. The rest of the pack, wandless, exchanged uneasy looks.

"She's not like you, Smith!" The older werewolf growled. "She's not one of us. She can't be your pack. Only we can give you the freedom to be what you are?"

Zach felt a little braver now and suddenly found himself clutching Luna's free hand with his. " _She_ is my pack."

Before Weylin could reply, there was a flurry of pops and cracks as Aurors started to appear around the group, wands raised. Luna dropped her wand on the step and clapped happily turning to give Zach a hug, a wide smile across her face. He watched, astonished as the entire group was rounded up, the whole thing passing in sort of a daze. Some tried to flee but were stunned and encased in ropes. He took an uneasy step back into the house, trying not to draw attention to himself. Aurors. The Ministry. Would they take him in too?

"Alright, Luna?" Harry Potter called from the group.

"Oh yes, Harry," Luna replied. "I thought they might try something or follow me here. All of our research gear was left behind, it had to smell like both myself and Rolf."

"Anything else?" Harry asked, leaning slightly and making eye contact with Zach. He raised his eyebrows.

Zach's shoulders fell and he took a step forward, resigned to go with the group of Aurors, but was stopped by Rolf Scamander, climbing up the stairs to stand beside Luna. Zach stared in surprise at the back of the other man's head, but said nothing.

"I think we're all settled, Auror Potter. Thank you for all of this. I think if you split some of the younger ones from the leader, they'll tell you where their safe-house was. It has to be somewhere near where they first chased us down. They might even tell you about all the antics the pack has been getting up to."

Harry gave the pair of them a nod and a knowing smile, nudging his toe against one of the prone Greybacks before calling to the others on his squad. Within moments the entire group was gone. Zach sank to the floor, sitting cross legged and looked up at both Rolf and Luna, completely flabbergasted by what had just happened over the last few minutes. Luna crouched down and put her hands on his upper arms, offering a smile.

"You're mad, you know," he said to her. "What if they hadn't shown up?"

"Then I would have done what I could to protect my pack."

Zach felt something warm stir under his ribs and he let out a shaking breath. Rolf stooped down and clapped him on the shoulder, offering a hand to help him stand back up. Zach looked back and forth between the two of them and shook his head. Luna popped up and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning to do the same for Rolf. 

She went over to the door and picked up her fallen wand before turning her attention back to Zach. "I meant what I said," she announced. "You're in my pack. If you want to leave and spend the full moon somewhere else, that's alright, but you're welcome to come back once it's over."

Rolf grinned. "Can't say you'll get a better offer from anyone else, mate."

"You mean it?" Zach asked.

"Of course I do," Luna said. "Friends help friends. Rolf and I are your friends now."

Zach couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like he really had friends. Sure there was his housemates, but things were always different after Cedric and no one was as close as they had been before he died. And then there was this little Ravenclaw. This looney little Ravenclaw who had not only called him her friend but had stood between him and a pack of violent werewolves in order to keep him safe.

She was, quite possibly, one of the bravest people he'd ever met.

And she considered him her friend.

Strangely enough, he realised he considered her a friend too.

And family.

Both of them.

Which was maybe what he needed all this time.

**Author's Note:**

> This story/art is part of an anonymous fest. Reveals of authors and artists will be posted on 1st of November. Follow us on [TUMBLR](https://hp-creatures.tumblr.com/).


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